


closets are too cramped for three people

by anonynon



Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Cheating, Closeted Character, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Many variations of the word "unhealthy", Unhealthy Relationships, Unhealthy cycles, Unreliable Narrator, this is not a happy fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-24
Updated: 2017-09-24
Packaged: 2019-01-05 00:06:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12179121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anonynon/pseuds/anonynon
Summary: A lie's easier to keep up than admitting to what's behind it. Especially when you're fucking someone who's not your girlfriend.It's not porn this time, sorry. Or happy.





	closets are too cramped for three people

Sex sounds wet.

That's the only way Maki can describe it, having never done anything of the sort for her entire life. Hands were for holding knives and wrapping around the handle of a gun, not for interlacing with someone else's tenderly or sliding in between your legs to make yourself feel good for once in your life. She thought Kaito taught her differently. She thought that feeling the warmth of his hand in hers, his kisses and tight hugs as he told her the value she had beyond taking a life meant that what she thought before was completely wrong.

Now, after finding out that Kaito sought out physical pleasure elsewhere when she said she wasn't ready to give it, she knew she was right to think what she thought before he came into her life and told her otherwise. The first time she went on a nightly walk and saw Kaito sliding his tongue in between Ouma's lips from a courtyard window, she felt the weight of his lie crush her lungs and heart in one fell swoop.

She should've just killed that little asshole right there. And yet, three weeks later, here he is alive and here she is outside Kaito's door to listen to them having passionate, pleasurable and uninterrupted sex.

It's 2:43 AM and anyone respectable is asleep. A cheating idiot, his annoying, disgusting, horrible, lying, rat-like son of a bitch sex partner (he was not a lover, Maki would never give him that title and for all the faith she's lost in Kaito she's sure he never would either) and a scorned assassin, however, were well awake for the second time this week. It's the worst ritual she can possibly think of, sitting with arms around knees outside Kaito's door as she listens to the sound of their wet, sloppy kissing, touching and light moans and seeing Kaito's hands entangle the back of Ouma's hair from the small slit of the opened door, but it's one she subjects herself to every time she hears footsteps at this time of night. It's always, always him, walking to Kaito's room and shooting yet another dagger into her chest when he does it. It's as if he knows and does it at the same time every time solely to drive more into her.

The kissing stops suddenly, and Ouma shifts in Kaito's lap. Ouma murmurs something imperceptible into Kaito's ear and giggles. Kaito grunts dismissively, breathes deeply for a moment or two, and then Maki can her the sound of him shifting his position on the bed as Ouma climbs off of him and sits onto the bed with a bounce of the mattress.

Bedsheets ruffle. The sound of a belt being undone and pants sliding down legs. Light kisses against skin, a deep breath through the nose, and the sound of a mouth opening, the quiet pop of something sliding in and out of it, Ouma openly groaning and the sound of his twisting of spider-like fingers into Kaito's hair-

It's no the first time she's heard and recognized the actions the sounds convey, but color and heat flood her face regardless. She swallows it down hard, the muscles of her neck and shoulders in a permanently tightened state at this point.

\--Would he do that to her, for her, if she asked him to? Was her holding out just a pretense for him to go and do this to him? Was this really just the affair and Maki the real lover, or did she have the situation flipped around in her mind for her own benefit?

For all she hears about Kaito's desperate attempts to keep their affair secret and stay in the deepest pit of denial, Ouma is not the least bit subtle about what's happening. For as much as Ouma likes to paint her as a meatheaded assassin who's thoughts only center around killing and fighting, she's not stupid or unperceptive. She sees the way he quietly pulls down on the edge of his scarf in such a way that looks like he's adjusting it for comfort, only to show the top edges of deep purple lovebites all over his neck. She knows that the wayward glances Kaito gives Ouma at the breakfast table aren't just to make sure he isn't setting up a prank. In the eyes of everyone else his and Kaito's loud and public fights are nothing more than two contrasting personalities clashing, but Maki can see them for what they are- thinly veiled arguments about their "relationship" (twice or three times weekly sex in the early hours of morning and spending no other time with each other wasn't a relationship, she was the one in an actual relationship with him- right?) caused by Ouma pointing out the obvious about Kaito and Kaito digging his heels into a lie that he, Ouma and Maki all know is very, very weak.

Maki desperately wants to storm in and cut off Ouma's increasingly tight moans with hands gripped tight around his throat. She wants to scream at Kaito for everything he built up in her and then destroyed without an apology. Every last bit of her training told her to act when she felt compelled but at the same time, she has no right to feel jealousy or angry when it's her fault that he was forced to find satisfaction elsewhere, when she kept refusing to name what they had as a true committed relationship and to call him her... boyfriend.

But even with all of that, even with her own faults keeping her from saying it, he doesn't even love him like she does. He just doesn't. Someone like him couldn't feel what she felt for Kaito and there's no way that Kaito showed him the affection that he did to her. It wasn't the same, it absolutely wasn't-

Ouma's groaning gets tighter, faster, but he cuts himself off and with another flurry of wet, messy and passionate kissing they're entangled with each other again on the bed, fabric against skim, tongues sliding against each other with moans passing between them.

It becomes impossible to tell exactly what they're doing by noise alone with how frantic and rushed their movements are for a few long minutes, but it becomes very clear when most noises stop and Ouma lets out a long, shuddering breath before the bed begins to shake and push up against the wall.

"Momota-chan-"

Her nails dig past the fabric of her socks and into the skin of her shins.

"Momota-chan, Momota-chan," His name is said like a prayer, over and over in time to the moaning creaks of the bed, forward and backward. She hates how he says his name. She hates that the slaps of skin against skin is this loud. She hates that she can tell Kaito's fucking him harder than the week before.

Either time is starting to pass by faster as she tries harder to not hear the seconds counted by each pant and bed creak, or the blowjob before had pushed Ouma close to the edge already. His formerly restrained moans have now become higher-pitched and loose, almost girlish, almost close to what sounds she could see herself making if she let herself be in Ouma's place-

"Momota-chan, Momota-chan, MOMOTA-CHAN, MO-MOTA-C-CHA-"

"--Quiet!" Kaito hisses into his ear, barely enough for Maki to hear over Ouma's desperate panting. But Kaito's tight grunts and rapid thrusts into Ouma meant that he was very close to finishing. She hates that she knows the sounds of his pleasure when she's never been in bed with him, and that she's proven right by his deep moan and Ouma's contented sigh and giggles soon afterward.

They both lie panting on each other for a long time, or perhaps time slowed back away from Maki's favor and it's only a few minutes at best. More shifting, more sheets sliding against skin, and Maki can guess Ouma has his horrid little face pressed against Kaito's bare chest.

"S-So... is this enough to stop believing in that lie you're telling yourself, Momota-chan?""

Kaito's response is tight, clipped and automatic. This is a topic that's been argued about before. He exhales. "...Dunno what you're talking about. Shut up for a minute, won't you?"

Ouma softly hums, obnoxiously places a kiss onto somewhere on Kaito's face and rolls onto his back. "It's _convenient_ that Harakawa-chan doesn't want to sleep with you, because after this... Nishishi~ I can tell that feeling is mutual for your two."

This time, Kaito's response is anything but restrained. He sits up in an instant, fists clenched against the sheets, and Maki has to dart her head back from the sliver in the door to avoid being seen.

"I said I'm not a fucking homo, you fucking-- fag!"

The room goes dead silent. In the brief peek Maki allowed herself, she can only see a sliver of Kaito's enraged expression and Ouma's naked back as he props himself up on his elbow.

"Well, you are fucking _a_ homo, Momota-chan. So I guess that makes both of us, then."

Maki doesn't stay to watch or hear the punch that lands Ouma, but it gives her the tiniest bit of satisfaction from all of this to know someone else is feeling as decked in the face as she is right now. As the boy she loves and the boy she hates start to argue about whether they actually like each other beyond having sex with each other, she slips into the shadows as if she wasn't there at all.

* * *

 

Kaito was absolutely not gay.

On all accounts he couldn't be gay. Gay dudes looked like Shinguji, with his floaty way of speaking and effeminate looks. Or Ouma, who flirted shamelessly with half the guys here and made it exceedingly clear that he preferred their company to that of the girls'- even when they've all taken a trip to the pool and every girl in the class is showing off their assets one way or another. They were weird, un-masculine guys that just had to stick out in a perverted way- _flaunting_ it like they did and not giving a shit what other people thought of it. It was completely gross. It disgusted him to his core.

Kaito wasn't like them in the slightest. He talked like a man, dressed like a man, acted like a man, looked like a man- nothing about him could be called less than that. When a busty or curvy girl passed by, he turned his head. He worked out and kept himself muscular, not lounging around and letting himself become lithe and weak-looking as they were so content to do. Girls were beautiful and desirable, people strong men like him were supposed to protect. Guys were solid and hard in all the wrong ways. Two of them together just felt wrong on a very basic level.

Kaito wasn't gay. What Ouma was offering and tempting him into doing had nothing to do with being gay.

It wasn't his fault that Ouma offered what he was sorely lacking and bordering on desperately wanting. It had nothing to do with the fact that he was a guy at all. That manipulative little shit strolled into his life when he was in the middle of a goddamn crisis and-- preyed upon him when he was weak. He saw the hole the lack of physical satisfaction left in him and offered to fill it as soon as the need truly pressed upon his psyche.

At first, the lack of physical contact was fine with him. When Maki told him, breath slightly shaking after he slid his hands up the front of her shirt, that she wasn't ready for sex, Kaito found himself something close to relieved. Of course disappointment was in mixed in there when his heart was pounding that fast in anticipation for what was (supposedly) to come, but he was also flooded with something in the pit of his stomach that resembled the feeling of having a looming obligation dismissed.

He didn't dwell on it the day afterward, or the next. By the third half-hearted attempt at initiating anything and Maki's routine "no", nothing came along to make him try to really examine that feeling of relief. He was just nervous, yeah, that he wasn't going to perform well and disappoint her. He wouldn't have admitted it to himself in the moment- what man admits they might be bad at sex- but in retrospect that had to be the explanation. It was being a good boyfriend, being happy to wait for sex with your girlfriend while she becomes more comfortable with the idea of it. That's just it- being kind, supporting her when she needs help standing on her own.

That was understandable and normal. He wasn't- _couldn't be_ \- the only guy who thought like that. But people- men- get lonely and have needs in ways that aren't met through handholding and chaste kissing. That too was understandable and normal, he thought.

"Well, that's a weak excuse, Momota-chan." Ouma once said with a cheery inflection that paradoxically meant he was entirely serious. "Maybe it's different for someone like you, but I don't think it's being a good boyfriend-" he emphasizes that word with a sneer bordering on mean "-to just sleep with someone else when your girlfriend doesn't want to. Hey, isn't _chastity_ a virtue Angie-chan goes on about? Mm, I think _fidelity_ is one too."

It was a mistake telling him anything other than to get on the bed and shut up.

Comments like that, the accurate ones that pointed fingers at holes he didn't want pointed out, only reinforced his feelings about the kid. He definitely didn't love Ouma, and he's sure Ouma didn't love him. A guy like that- one enveloped so deeply in lies that Kaito can't possibly see what's real about anything he's saying- couldn't love him, even if he was like _that_. No matter what he whispered into his ear before leaving soft lovebites on the skin of his neck, no matter how many times he called him his "beloved Momota-chan" in seeming jest, there's absolutely no way Kaito could see any actual affection or sincerity in his words. And more to the point, he didn't want those words to be laced with truthfulness. Those little lurches in his stomach when Ouma used such loaded language were based on feelings of disdain and (emphatically, in his own head) not coming from longing or wishful thinking.

Fucking him was one thing, sharing real affection between them was another. He didn't want a romance with a guy because that was a boundary that couldn't be justified in crossing. Maki- a girl, the right kind of person- was giving him love and affection already. There was no understandable reason why he should seek that out from Ouma (of all people). There was no hole in his life that needed filling in that regard, and so there was no space for Ouma and his insidious ways to slide into. There wasn't a hole because he wasn't gay. That was that.

Regardless, even if Kaito wasn't looking for love from Ouma in the first place, there were other reasons to enjoy his company other than his constant lies and annoyingly perceptive quips. Ouma's skin was soft and pale, like a girl's. His face, when not contorted into an overblown imitation of snide evil, was cute and bordering on feminine. His hair almost reached his shoulders. He weighed no more than Maki did- his small frame felt almost the same as hers within his arms by size alone. In bed, when he was close to the edge and totally enveloped in pleasure, his cries were high-pitched and tight. You could mistake them easily for those of a husky-voiced girl's.

And Kaito was doing exactly that, he told himself. Besides the fact that Ouma presented himself and kept goading Kaito into it by his presence alone, the sole reason Kaito was even remotely interested in fucking him was that he was girlish. He wasn't attracted to the male parts of Ouma- his speaking voice, flat chest, dick- he was attracted to the feminine parts of him only. It wasn't an emotional attraction. It wasn't anything to do with the fact that he's a boy. You can fuck someone without falling in love with them. Someone can come to you for sex without wanting anything more than that.

That's not being gay.

* * *

 

Sometimes, Ouma filled the hole that Maki left very well.

Sometimes Kaito was able to completely block out his various mental mantras and get lost in the pleasurable feelings of having sex with him. There was no pressure to perform as his boyfriend, no worries about looking like any less of a man for his mistakes. Of course Ouma made joking remarks when things didn't go as planned, hips didn't align right, things weren't quite as smooth as they should be, but the expectations were entirely different. There were expectation, feelings and considerations built up so high for Maki that just weren't with Ouma.

They could relax with each other as soon as any bickering, smartass quips and teasing was out of the way. When all the focus was on touching, stroking, grinding against each other, there was no space for Kaito's constant thoughts of "you shouldn't be doing this, you shouldn't be doing this, he's a guy, he's a GUY" that plagued him in the preparations beforehand. When Kaito's hips rolled up into Ouma and his back arched in immediate response, those chants in his head became whispers that faded to completely inaudible as his pounding heart drowned them out. As he rhythmically thrust into him and the raw scent of sex filled his nostrils, all he could hear was Ouma's desperate sounding whines and giggles into his ear and neck, bites and kisses to the skin underneath his lips shortly afterward. They said absolutely nothing when his hand slide down Ouma's taught stomach and began stroking his cock in smooth motions to bring him to the same level of pleasurable tension. Something about the feeling of Ouma's naked body in his arms and his warmth around his cock sent those voices in his head far, far away for a blissfully long period of time.

They came one after the other, Ouma moaning, Kaito retraining his pleasure in a deep grunt. They shivered and panted as orgasm ran through them and Kaito let himself feel warm contentment in the moment. He let himself kiss Ouma like he kissed Maki- warm, soft and unhurried, unlike the biting, whole-mouth kissing that immediately preceded pants coming off- and Ouma, sometimes, peppered kisses to his mouth and chin as if he was appreciative of it. In a rare gesture that only seemed to happen when Kaito was at his most exhausted and pleasured, he delicately wrapped his thin arms around Kaito's neck and giggled in between kisses that bordered on sweet.

Post-orgasm bliss. That's all it was. You feel good about anything, anyone in that moment. It wasn't the fact that it was Ouma's bony but solid frame and not Maki's soft curves being held warmly in his arms. It wasn't the small but very distinctive and tickling snickers in his ear. It wasn't his low, breathy and distinctly masculine whispers.

Letting it extend beyond that moment was breaking the standard of affection Kaito allowed himself morally. The feelings of self-hatred that always flooded him after the pleasure drained out of him was starting to come back and clench around his stomach. "Hey," he breathed out in a sigh against Ouma's ear as soon as his heart stopped pounding in his ears, "You gotta get out of here."

Immediately Ouma yanked his arms away from as if Kaito was suddenly on fire. "Right, right~" He chirped in a suddenly overly cheerful tone as if he wasn't just fucked into relative speechlessness a few minutes before. He slid himself out from underneath Kaito, grabbed his boxers from the floor, pulled them up his slender legs and then the last Kaito could see of what he was doing before planting himself face first into the pillow was him gathering up his checkered scarf and white clothes in a messy bundle.

"I better leave before Momota-chan tries to destroy the evidence of the crime."

"...What the hell is-" But the door is clicked quietly shut before he had the chance to finish the groaned complaint. By himself with only creeping self loathing tightening around his throat, he pretends like he doesn't notice the cold the absence of Ouma's body heat brings into the bed.

* * *

 

Other times, it was terrible. Pretty damn terrible.

It started out fine, as it usually does before things go south. For all the shit he's heard the guy say, he's never seen Ouma come into their "encounters" angry or annoyed. He definitely didn't look all that miffed dragging Kaito into his room after breakfast, sliding down to his knees as soon as they got through the door, unzipping Kaito's pants and taking his dick into his mouth.

The last thing that Kaito wants is what's going on between the two of them to get out, but he's sure that if anyone decided to take a stroll by his bedroom door they'd hear very suspect grunts and skin noises coming from behind it. Putting two and two together with Ouma making a show of declaring that he had stolen Kaito's shoes and baiting Kaito into chasing him down the hall... It didn't take Saihara's detective skills to figure out who could be making those noises and why.

Kaito blamed how fast he reached climax on how stupidly skilled Ouma was with his tongue and lips. A long suck up his entire length, two strokes and sucking on the tip, and Kaito pushed his final thrust into Ouma's mouth, spilling his cum into his mouth and onto his chin as the other boy reflexively pulls back. He coughed, of course, but it was no time at all before he recomposed himself and swallowed as if it tasted good.

What a cocksucker. It was completely shameful how shameless he is about it. A flash of something close to frustration coursed through Kaito's pounding heart when he saw just how pleased he looked to make another man orgasm. Gross.

"Weeeelll, I don't think I even need to ask if that felt good. Did I make your heart pound out of your chest? I bet no one else could make you feel that good, you know!"

Kaito isn't stupid. There's a lot that he was suspending in willful ignorance, but the implications of Ouma's annoying chipper words didn't fly over his head. He knew exactly what kind of attack that was supposed to be.

As Ouma stood up, Kaito's hand shot out to grab firmly at his shoulder, pushing him back to put distance in between the two of them. "...Maki would be fine at it, asshole."

Ouma's smile turned sharp underneath his grip. "Maybe she would try, if she wanted to win the game that's going on. The one she's not smart enough to see happening."

Kaito's other hand curled into a tight enough fist to leave fingernail marks on his palm.

As if he didn't notice the contortion of Kaito's face and the snarl forming on it, Ouma continued on, raising his voice to a theatrical level. "Right now, _poor_ Harukawa-chan has noooooo idea she's so _behind_. It's completely unfair! She doesn't know that her _boyfriend_ is a cheeaatting closet caaaasss-"

Kaito doesn't let him finish the last obnoxiously extended syllable by slamming his fist into Ouma's upper cheek in a solid, practiced punch. Clearly taken by surprise, Ouma hissed through his teeth in a cowering step backward, cradling his face, only to be caught off guard again with a quick blow directly to the center of his stomach. That was the final blow needed to get him to cut his breath entirely and go still, choosing to hold his arms over his stomach instead of his face as he turned his body completely away from Kaito. Anything else he planned to say died in a staggered breath out.

Ouma was dead quiet as he coughed at the opposite wall and with the tension leaving his own shoulders Kaito could tell that the fight- if it could even be called that- was over as soon as it started. It was clear Ouma wasn't going to throw (weaker, of course) punches back this time with how hard he was coughing and wheezing.

Kaito regretted this latest scuffle immediately as he exhaled out the last of his anger. Sometimes, it really bothered Kaito how much frustration went into those punches and how little he was left with in the immediate moments after they landed. And that last punch wasn't fair either, he realized in hindsight- Ouma was already stepping back when he did it and it was clear now that he wasn't planning to return the punches in the short space in between blow one and two.

But the kid wasn't going to change without any kind of tangible consequences for the kind of crap he pulled. He wasn't ever going to take the advice he so desperately needed to better himself. Even when Kaito calls him out for his flippant lies and contradictory statements and earnestly asked him to just cut the shit and tell the truth for once, he didn't listen at best and laughed off his efforts at worst. Of all the things that Ouma was, he wasn't stupid, and he had to know how much frustration Kaito held in his chest about their situation, about his vague and confusing feelings concerning Maki, about sex, about what moral line Ouma was constantly tempting him into crossing, about everything that he's keeping silent. Maybe in his own little fantasy world he was justified with saying shit like that and brushing it off with a lie, but in Kaito's world all he could see was a brat toying with him for his own amusement instead of any real criticism. If only he learned to keep his mouth fucking shut for once instead of fanning the flames for no goddamn reason, then Kaito wouldn't have to-

His thoughts and reigniting anger were cut staggeringly short by Ouma's small form darting past him, through the door and clicking it shut with surprising silence. Smart. If anything got through to him, it was that cueing people in to when they were having an argument wasn't the best idea; explaining it with non-incriminating reasons when questions came up after the fact avoided the risk of anyone getting an idea of what it was really about. Nobody would disbelieve that a fight between the two of them happened over a prank gone wrong. Ouma would probably come up with a believable lie anyway if they weren't going to use that one again.

This is just how men dealt with problems and arguments. That's all there was to it.

Briefly, Kaito considered following him to apologize for the unnecessary second punch, but quickly decided against it. He was probably scurrying off to swipe an ice pack from the freezer and stick it on his eye before the shiner starts showing. Slowing him down meant delaying the treatment, which means the bruise would just look worse than it had to.

"Fucking hell," Kaito mutters to another empty bedroom and those annoying, shitty justifications in his head.

* * *

 

Mornings after were always awkward one way or another. Regardless of how the night went before, Ouma and Kaito had made a silent pact to enter the dining room for breakfast at different times, sit an unsuspicious distance -not next to each other, not on opposite ends of the table- away from each other and converse with other people at first before passing any words between them. The only differences in the morning after a night of mutual satisfaction and a fight were the atmosphere that hung between them and a bruise or two.

It wasn't great this morning. Ouma had broken one of their unspoken rules and sat as far as possible away from him and, after a full hour, hadn't thrown a single joking lie his way. Kaito was blearily biting into a peace of toast while Ouma, black eye explained away with some obvious lie, happily chirped to Saihara about something inconsequential while ignoring Kaito's existence. The tone of his voice only reminded Kaito of his taunts last night, and so he turned his attention to a decidedly one-sided conversation between Miu and Hoshi.

Wasn't hard, because she was practically spit-screaming every word.

"...Yeah, you might think the world hates you now, but you gotta have been pretty fuckin' popular in prison, right? Ha, you're just the right height for a blowie in the showers!"

The death glare that Hoshi gave Miu was enough to send her into a fit of sputtering apologies. She scurried off, shaking and sweaty, much to Hoshi's apparent relief. Without showing any more aggravation and letting the last of what he held slide away, he returned to his enjoying his own breakfast in contemplative silence.

Kaito couldn't believe what he just saw. Hell, he wasn't even part of the conversation and hearing that made him want to break his own moral code about hitting girls and give her a solid punch across the face for a shitty comment like that. He slammed his hands on the table, rattling the spoon and knife Kirumi had so delicately laid out for him, and spat his own words into Hoshi's exasperated face.

"Seriously?! You're just gonna let that shit slide?!"

Beyond he initial flash of aggravation, the other boy looked as if he expected a comment like that. He pulled a candy cigarette from his pocket and put it in his mouth before speaking, a brief expression on his face that suggested he was disappointed it was merely sugar. "I know it ain't the truth, so-" Hoshi chewed on the stick silently for a moment, as if thinking on how to word the second part of that statement. "No point in recognizing it by making a huge fuss denyin' it. Just makes it look like they hit a sore spot and I'm coverin' it up with denial."

"Sore spot" was the "right" term to use, considering Kaito felt a direct jab to the center of his chest, like Hoshi had just punched a sore muscle.

He slid back in his chair, exhaled, and mercifully let the obvious expression of shock on Kaito's face go without direct comment. "She can think what they want 'bout me. I ain't what I used to be, but I know what I am. It'd only bother me if any of the crap she's spouting was true."

Kaito made himself think that the aside glances Hoshi kept giving him while saying that amounted to nothing more than a quirk of his weirdly aged ways. Kaito also made himself ignore the brief but noticeably blank stare Ouma shot at him from across the table, something that Saihara (unfortunately) did not let pass by his notice. Hoshi's words hung in a suddenly silent atmosphere until Kaito couldn't ignore the pressure of them.

"...You've really become a wuss." Kaito muttered to himself as he pushed his chair back, tore his gaze away from Hoshi's stare back, and turned to walk out of the room without giving a glance towards Ouma's end of the table.

...Tomorrow. Give today to blow over, and tomorrow it'll be better. One way or another, he'll solve this situation and clear away the pressure he feels on his shoulders. He'll take it upon himself, man up, and just deal with it... tomorrow.

That's what men do.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Maybe I'll do Ouma's POV after the 14 billion other fics I have lined up.
> 
> Spoilers: It's miserable too.


End file.
